The Revenge School
by Terintwi
Summary: "Rule number one: Nobody talks to Frank Iero"   Friendshippy, set in high school, Frerard I guess, you know - This is my first fanfic like this so cut me some slack xP
1. Bullets

"_Goooooood _morning Belleville! It's seven o'clock and you're here with me - on this fine morning may I add - Kurt Peterson. I'll be with you until eleven, so stick around folks, it's going to be a good show with classic hits from the likes of-"

I shut my radio alarm off.

Fuck.

How did I fall asleep last night?

I pick myself up out of bed, unhooking myself from my guitar. I hope nobody would ever see me like that, asleep hugging my guitar like a toddler and a teddy. I often found myself falling asleep whilst playing to myself. It seems lonely to fall asleep that way. I shrug then walk over to my mirror: the boy that greets me is too short, too messy, too pale and too angry looking. I try to smile but find nothing. Nothing finds me. Same as usual.

I run my fingers through my hair, it isn't overly long, I have a long fringe, that's all. But that doesn't matter. Running my fingers through my hair won't make it look any better.

I wander out of my room, as if in a trance then into the bathroom.

It was my daily routine.

Get up.

Shower.

School.

Home.

Guitar.

Sleep.

I hardly ate either. Eating was something I found hard, what with being far too fussy and not liking really anything but pop-tarts. Being vegetarian didn't help either. I didn't like anything.

I stand in the shower thinking about this, letting the warm water sooth me. For what would be short relief from the dread of having to face up to school. The water really calms me. Sends me into a dream-like state. But it's over soon, I emerge from the shower, a dripping wet zombie with heavy shadows under his eyes. I wrap myself in a towel then go back to my room. It doesn't take long to get ready. I just like to sit for a while and enjoy the peace for a while longer.

I sit for a half hour or so before getting up. It's nearly eight o'clock, I know I'll have to leave for school soon so I don't bother eating. What my Mom doesn't know can't hurt her.

I slip my feet into my comfy skating shoes, they were just plain black. Matching only to my jeans, hoodie and hair. I was a dark person. The only colour on me was the red design that read "Misfits" on my hoodie. And, of course, the white writing on my very dark blue shirt that read "I don't care." My outfit really summed me up.

I take a couple of dollars from the table, not caring if Mom does. I shove them in my jean pocket then throw my bag over my shoulder. I head to the door quickly but before opening it I turn and look up the stairs.

"Bye Mom!" I call, not expecting a response. She was probably still asleep.

I wait for a second or two then just leave. It hurts. My Mom would normally be the only one to smile at me kindly in a day. I dread the taunting when I eventually get to school. But then that's the life I've been given. I sigh at how unfair it seems.

It doesn't take long to walk to school in the early morning sun, it's not very warm but more mild. Comforting to say the least. I soak in every last minute of peace before stepping through the school gates.

Hello hell.

I walk casually down the path, minding my own business. So far so good.

I get to my locker without any comments.

A new record.

Maybe?

Just as I'm fishing about in my locker for the books I need for the days lessons though, I realise I thought too soon.

I feel a sharp jab in my back.

"You're in the way of my locker, fag." a tall, strong-looking boy says to me, I don't even recognise this one.

"Sorry," I croak, closing my locker promptly and taking my books in a hurry.

"Not so fast. I never heard you say sorry properly, you piece of shit, I want to hear you say it. Loud." He taunts while giving me a menacing look.

"I said sorry, sorry if you didn't hear me. Sorry I wasted your time." I reply, my voice shaking: laced with fear.

The boy takes a step closer to me.

"You dare to be sarcastic?" He threatens.

I shake my head vigorously. I repeat myself, no, no. I wasn't being sarcastic. I'm sorry if you took it that way.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry everyday.

I end that "argument" on the floor, my head bashed against my locker with the warning that if I came near it again I'd get shoved in it. And told I was lucky to not be in there already.

I wait until he walks away before picking myself up, despite the fact that several people were there and had witnessed it, nobody helped me. These kids weren't even the bad ones, they just didn't want to be anything to do with me.

That was okay.

I was made to be avoided, that was the person I was.

I sniffle as I make my way to class, angry inside, quiet and unrevealing on the outside. Nobody bothered asking how I was. Nobody waved at me. As far as they were concerned I was nobody, I just showed up everyday for lessons then left. It was that simple. I wished all the people in the school would accept that.

I make my way to home room slowly, running things over in my head.

Fag.

He called me a fag. What's new? Honestly? I'm not gay. Why do people assume I am? Or maybe they don't know what fag means. I wish I had the guts to tell them that.

I sit in home room alone. As per usual. Frank, alone in the corner, at a two-seat desk, with only his bag on the other chair.

Then someone knocks on the door. He pushes the door open and blushes instantly, he gets some hoots from the jocks who all laugh at the timid looking boy.

What did he do?

The same as me probably.

He walks over to Mrs Canter, he says something inaudible to her and she nods.

"Find a seat, Michael, and choose wisely." She tells him, hardly bothering to look up from her magazine.

The boy called Michael looks around the room. That's when he realises there's only one seat left. The one next to me. He comes towards me, shy and awkward looking. Reluctantly, I move my bag to the floor.

"Hi," the boy croaks.

I grunt in reply. People will just tell me to shut up if I speak.

"I'm sorry, there's nowhere else to sit." He explains, going red.

He pushes his black rimmed glasses up his nose and blinks twice. I nearly laugh, I feel like one of those people who make me constantly apologise.

"You did nothing wrong." I wish somebody would tell me that. "I'm Frank." I say, hardly loud enough for "Michael" to hear.

"Mikey." He says softly. Would be. Michael sounds too harsh for him. "I just moved here, to Belleville. Is it nice?"

I snort.

"Yeah, I love Belleville. I honestly do." I lower my voice "The people aren't very cool though."

Mikey seems to understand.

"I know what you mean. I got tripped over on my way here." He tells me, going even further red.

I smile apologetically at him.

"Me too. But then what's new? Same old, I guess." I sympathise, then realising I was having a conversation with someone my own age for the first time in a very long time.

Mikey grins.

"I just moved, me and my brother are new here." He tells me "My brother is in the year above us, his name's Gerard. If you ever meet him, he's the one with the Misfits sweater."

I feel my face break out into a smile. I'm not alone! Excitedly, I show Mikey my own sweater, feeling proud. Mikey laughs.

"You'd like Gerard, if you could get him speaking."

Gerard suddenly sounds a lot like me.

_Oh, you'd like Frank, if you can get him speaking. He's a nice lad, just a tad shy, keeps to himself. I don't know why. He could be such a brilliant friend…The other children don't seem to appreciate this…_

I relive the way I'd been introduced to my "mentor" when I first came to Belleville High. My mentor was a senior girl who had dark hair and eyes. She didn't seem impressed. The first thing she asked me was if I was into cutting. I could of cut her.

"Doesn't he speak?" I ask, interested to find more about the boy who sounds so like me.

Mikey giggles.

"To me. To Mom. To everyone I guess. If it's necessary. He only speaks to stand up for himself or me. We're the sort of family that usually stick together, to the end, you know?" he explains.

I feel the connection with the boy I don't know disappear. He stands up for himself… that's more than I could do.

"What about you Frank? You seem kind of…" Mikey trails off.

I understand. He wants to know why I'm so outcast from the rest of the room.

"Rule number one, Mikey, nobody talks to Frank Iero or nobody talks to them."

Mikey swallows then smiles at me. He holds out a hand to shake.

"I'd rather talk to Frank Iero than some shallow ba- kids…" Mikey smiles, disallowing himself to swear.

I shake his hand, shocked, somebody would rather talk to me that anyone else. I almost feel sick with the happy feeling.

Then the bell rang.

"Oh. Well I'm in French. I'll see you at lunch, if that's okay Frank?" Mikey says as we head to the door. I simply nod and Mikey leaves in the opposite direction.

I'm alone again and feel sick with a bad feeling this time.


	2. To The End

Luckily there were just three classes until lunch, and Mikey said "see you at lunch": that's at least something to look forward to. I swallow hard and hope nothing happens to me in these classes. Thankfully, it's Music, English and Art where the teachers all like me. Unfortunately, I know for a fact Mikey didn't take these classes after scanning over his timetable hopefully. That hurts. I find one person in the whole school who actually said he would like to talk to me and he has all opposite classes from me.

English is first on the time table, it goes fast without a hitch. I leave quickly on the bell, afraid of whatever might happen if I linger. Then I go to music and do nothing, like everyone else. The teacher is rarely in and if she is insists I try and play guitar. I don't bring my guitar in with me to school though in the fear somebody would do something horrid to it. I love the god-damned instrument too much.

Art doesn't go as well though. I get paired with a boy to do a portrait of him, and vice-versa. I don't honestly know the boy, he has blonde hair and a round face. He doesn't seem like the kind of person who would draw you with bleeding eyes and white-stained lips. Don't judge a book by it's cover. I sigh at how good his drawing is, it really looks like me, letting out a scream with white dripping down pink lips. It really hurts..

I gaze at my own drawing of the boy, he just smiles up at me. I want to cry. What did I do?

I leave the class "to visit the toilet" at that point. I don't return, I just wait until the bell for lunch and try not to cry. When the bell finally rings the only thought on my mind is Mikey. Find my new friend, cling to him like he's all I've got.

I find Mikey in the cafeteria, standing looking lost. He greets me with an awkward half smile and I instantly feel like I'm not alone.

"Hi," I grin. "What's up?"

Mikey smiles back.

"Nothing: I just can't find Gerard, that's all." he shrugs, looking round the room for his brother.

Then I spot a boy with the exact same hoodie as me on. He runs to Mikey. He doesn't speak. He just stands there.

Mikey awkwardly points me out to Gerard.

"Gerard, this is Frank."

Gerard doesn't really give me much of a second look until he spots my hoodie. He yanks my arm up and holds our arms together so that our matching sleeves that read "Misfits" make us look very similar.

I'm mesmerised by this seemingly crazy boy. He has dyed black hair that hangs messily around deep brown eyes, his face is soft and very pale. Like me. He looks pained too. I wonder if he really is just like me.

Then Gerard drops my arm and looks around the cafeteria where nearly the whole school were sitting chatting and eating. On the most part. Gerard wrinkles his nose.

"Mikey. I don't like here. Can we get food and leave?" he says quietly so Mikey and me only hear.

Mikey nods. He doesn't seem to keen on the idea of sitting amongst the people in the room either. I was glad I wasn't alone. If I did eat at lunch it would be a flask of soup I'd brought and I'd eat it outside on the steps where people rarely went.

Gerard goes instantly over to the vending machine. He forces a dollar into it and presses his nose up against the glass. Then he seems to have made his choice. He presses a button then reaches in and grabs a ham sandwich. I frown quite a bit at the meat, but then, it's not my choice what he eats.

Gerard passes half the sandwich to Mikey. I watch as the brothers share. I never shared with people. Sharing was beyond me.

I followed the two boys as they walked outside quite briskly.

"Frank?" Mikey asks "Where's a good place to go?"

I smile, feeling useful.

"The steps. Here, follow me." I reply, leading them through a couple of corridors and out through a fire door you weren't strictly supposed to use unless there was a fire. I didn't really care.

Mikey nods in approval, the steps are hidden in a little gap between two school buildings with grass and a few flowers growing from when the biology department used to use this area as a garden. They had the fancy green houses they had been investing in for so long, now. It meant nobody would come outside and we could just laze about.

I sit on the bottom step and look at Mikey. He is nibbling around the edge of his sandwich crust whereas Gerard has already eaten the bread and was tearing bits of ham apart and throwing them around carelessly.

"Frank. You never got food!" Mikey suddenly realised. Gerard notices too and seemingly trying to be nice he holds out a strip of ham. I shudder and push his hand away.

"I don't eat meat. I don't eat much, actually." I tell the two, who don't seem fazed.

Mikey shrugs it off. He doesn't say anything about it unlike most people who find out I'm a vegetarian, a couple of months ago a boy in our grade had found out and had force fed me bits of a half eaten burger. I shake off the memory then give Mikey and Gerard a little smile. Gerard seems kind of put off the ham now.

"It's okay, I don't mind others eating it. I won't try and convert them. It's up to me what I eat, not what others eat." I explain.

Gerard cocks an eyebrow.

"You don't look like you eat at all." he states blankly, his voice barely a whisper. I feel myself burning red.

Mikey punches his brother on the arm and hisses something before turning apologetically to me.

"Sorry, Frank, Gerard didn't mean to be so crude- Did you Gerard?" Mikey turns to his brother and gives him a very meaningful stare.

Gerard shakes his head twice.

"Nope." he barely apologises properly. He is too busy poking Mikey in the ribs in revenge for the punch.

Mikey giggles as Gerard pokes him in the ribs and soon is gasping for Gerard to stop. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an inhaler, he quickly takes a puff then embarrassingly shoves it back into his pocket. Gerard looks away like nothing happened. I don't dare to make a comment either.

"Don't do that to me, Gee." Mikey wheezes, clutching his sides. I feel sorry for the skinny, blonde haired boy. Having asthma would be pretty bad.

Gerard doesn't say anything. I don't really give it much of a thought. Gerard doesn't seem like he really has much to say.

"So are you going to ask how come we came to this school?" Mikey asked, I heard the smile in his voice.

I gave him an interested look. He nodded then cleared his throat, he had clearly been preparing a little story.

"Okay, so we were just minding our own business at lunch at our last school when this boy goes into my bag and takes my inhaler. I jump up to grab him but he pushes me over and I land on my back which winds me: so I really need my inhaler. Then as I lie there begging for my inhaler back, Gerard jumps up and punches the guy so hard in the face that his nose cracks and blood starts spewing from it. And Gerard grabs my inhaler and gives me it whilst basically hugging me, then he gets called…he gets called an incestuous fag." Mikey giggles "And Gerard punches the guy who called him that square in the jaw and screams "JUST BECAUSE I HUG MY FUCKING LITTLE BROTHER - WHO IS CLEARLY IN SOME DEGREE OF PAIN, THAT MEANS I'M FUCKING INTO HIM? THAT'S JUST SICK" and he kicks the guy in the balls and the guy falls over on top of a table. The next thing you know I'm being comforted by the deputy head as Gerard gets expelled by the head. And that's how we winded up here. I couldn't stay in that place without Gee." He finishes with a triumphant smile. I instantly realise what he means by Gerard sticking up for him.

"That's cool, Gerard, I don't know many people who would do that." I tell the black haired boy who seems oblivious to the world.

"Would you do that?" Gerard asks instantly. "Would you scream and kick if somebody you loved was getting put through pain?"

I instantly imagined my Mom being hurt then imagined myself screaming and crying, I don't know what I'd do. But I lie.

"I can't think of anybody I'd do that for. I don't have anyone, really." I whisper.

Gerard nods.

"If there's one thing I noticed in this school, it's that everyone is close together. That is, except you." Gerard notes.

I swallow hard and nod.

"Nobody likes me, really. I suppose I just try and stay out of their way" I say passively, picking at my shoes.

Gerard doesn't look like he's going to accept that.

"You mean you get bullied?" He half asks, half states. He seems very confident even though he speaks very quietly and very softly.

I nod.

"What do they do?" he asks, his tone isn't the same as last time, it's more interest, and strangely comforting. I don't like to talk, I don't even know why I've found myself talking to these complete strangers. But I know it feels nice to be just talking to somebody.

"Hit me, punch me, trip me over, bang my head against lockers, force-feed me bits of burger, lock me in lockers, take my things and hide them… call me stuff. Like fag. Piece o' shit. Worthless…" I trail off. I've said enough already, I feel like they are all watching me rat them out to a boy I don't even know.

Gerard looks repulsed.

"Why?" He whispers. It doesn't seem like a question. "Mikey used to get that. All the time, and what the hell did Mikey do? What the hell did you do?" He poses all these questions and I open my mouth to answer but he stops me "Fuck all. That's what." He finishes.

I suddenly feel like I'm taking quite well to Gerard. And Mikey. Why had they not come to my school before? They were the nicest people I had met in a long time. That was until Gerard opened his mouth again.

"But they call you fag. Are you gay?"

I go bright red and shake my head.

"Nope. No. But I think that homophobia is gay…" I answer too quickly. Gerard laughs.

"I like that." He says softly. Then he goes quiet again and shoves a pair of earphones in. I look from my shoe to Gerard, from Gerard to Mikey. Mikey looks kind of dumbstruck. But not too bothered. He seems to keep a straight face a lot of the time.

"He doesn't normally speak that much." Mikey tells me in a barely audible whisper. "He must like you. And he normally doesn't like my friends."

I grin at Mikey, I don't know why. I just feel so amazing to know that I have two people in the whole school that like me.

And I don't think about anything else for the whole day. I don't think about the bullies or the other kids. They aren't worth it now that Mikey and Gerard are at school. I don't lose this train of thought until I reach my house. Instead I feel instantly proud that I'm going to go in and smile at my Mom properly.

I knock on the door first then slowly push it open. My Mom instantly greets me from the living room, she is sitting on the sofa watching television.

"Frankie, how was school?" she calls, indicating me to come to her with her left hand. I drop my bag and slip of my shoes before joining her on the sofa.

"Great, thanks, Mom." I smile, trying to show her I really mean it.

But she just sighs.

"Frankie, I know you get a rough time, you can tell me. I'm your mom, you can-" I cut her off.

"You never believe me though. I'm going to practice guitar." I say as I head up stairs. She knows I won't come down again that evening, not even for dinner. I hear her sigh as I close my bedroom door.

And I'm safe again. In my own haven, a room with three guitars, a little amp and a very extensive CD collection. I flop down on my bed. I was hard on my Mom sometimes, but I wasn't in the mood for her lectures on feeling safe talking to her. I didn't care.

I pick up my favourite guitar, a white les paul.

I scramble my fingers down the fret board, feeling the calming sensation I get when I play. I play a few chords and strum through some songs I wrote myself, singing quietly along. This is when I feel safest. Music surrounds me and I feel comforted.

After nearly two hours I put down my guitar and lay back on my bed. It's not even late, only 6:30. I smell something cooking downstairs but I'm still not hungry, even though I hadn't eaten anything all day.

I lie there for a while longer before I hear my Mom shouting.

"Frank! Dinner!" She calls.

"I'm not hungry!" I yell back, and she doesn't reply.

Then five minutes later there is a very loud knock on my door and she just barges in. I just stare at her blankly.

"Frank Anthony Iero, you come downstairs and eat or I swear I will take your guitar." she yells, getting frustrated.

I just shrug.

"I mean it, Frank. You're hardly eating and I don't want you taking ill, so god help you if you aren't downstairs in the next five minutes!" she shouts as she leaves my room.

I don't even pay attention to her warning, I just pull my legs up to my chest and lie like that, content enough not moving. And not eating.

It had been a better day than I had expected, even if that meant I had still had my smashed against a metal locker which had left a very slight bump. I realised that as I lay with my head in my hands during biology after lunch. It was sore to touch, but I didn't think much of it. It would clear up and go away, unlike most of the things that went wrong in my life. Number one there being that I couldn't remember the last time I felt truly happy with who I was. I was reminded everyday that I was too small, too skinny, a waste of space… fag. That was the one that stuck most. Fag. Fag. Fag, fucking fag.

It hurt the most too. I could mainly get over the other names but I nearly cracked down the edges each time somebody called me that. I wondered what was keeping me together. I wasn't going to pretend I was happy. Sure, I had met two new people who might of considered me a possible friend - but I didn't even really know them. The only thing I knew is that one had bad asthma and got picked on but had a great personality even so and that that the other one was outstandingly quiet and quite blatant. And liked Misfits and had the same hoodie as me. But that didn't matter.

After a week or so they'd probably come to their senses and side of with everyone else. It was inevitable.

I hear my name called angrily from downstairs once more and quickly come to my senses. I slide out of bed reluctantly and nearly drag myself downstairs: fuelled on the prospect that Mom would leave me alone if I at least made an effort to eat, even just a forkful.

I wander into the kitchen and see what she had prepared - the only vegetarian meal she knew how to cook, vegetarian lasagne. I stare at the plate of sloppy looking food, it didn't look honestly all that appetising.

"Eat." Mom tells me sternly. "It's not bad for you, you know, Frank."

I slip into the chair at the table and take a forkful of food. I can't be bothered.

I eat what's on my fork and swallow quickly, it's gone quite cold. I don't even want dinner. I eat more and more, starting to feel ill. Mom doesn't move from the table where she has finished her own food, but doesn't seem like she will leave until I am too.

I finally finish the plateful and feel sick and tired, if I eat, I'd rather snack than eat a whole meal.

"See, that's better. Feel's good, doesn't it?" Mom smiles.

I nearly gag. My mouth tastes horrible. But I nod, then make my way straight to my room where I just collapse on my bed.

And it all starts over again.


	3. I refuse

"_Goooooood _morning Belleville! You're tuned in to Kurt Pearson in the morning, bringing you everything from classic hits to the newest wonders, it's seven o'clock on Friday morning, who'd of thought the week would go so f-"

I slam my hand down on my alarm clock and it falls off the bedside table.

Fuck.

I slept for a hell of a long time, that's for sure.

I roll out of bed and get back to what I do best, follow the same old routine; hope for the best.

Shower.

School.

Home.

Guitar.

Sleep.

Then tomorrow I can do what in the hell I want, no more having to wake up to Kurt Pearson's too cheery call of "Good Morning Belleville!"

It certainly isn't good waking up to that, the only good thing about that radio station is that they play a decent selection of songs by a decent selection of artists.

I follow my same routine. The shower's done. But then I decide on a cup of coffee, I get strange coffee cravings a lot of the time.

Then I get back on track.

Shower down.

Time for school.

I wear a different shirt today, this one is just plain light grey. I take a different hoodie this time, still a misfits one, just it has "Misfits" across the back in dripping white letters. I love the effect on it. I take a few dollars again - in case I need them - and then decide to check how many I have in my wallet. I open my school bag and find my phone beeping at the bottom. I instantly forget about the wallet and pick up my phone, it's been a while since I've used it. I shove it in my jean pocket and close my bag. Time to go. I don't even call bye to Mom as it's just a pointless move. I just keep on moving through the day. It's as easy as that.

I get to school earlier than I'd expected I would. I wondered if this was an opportunity to go to my locker before the boy from yesterday got there. I almost ran straight to my locker and hurriedly shoved things in it and took out the books I'd need, then somebody poked me in the back.

Shit. My eyes widen.

I turn around slowly then let out a sigh of relief. Mikey Way stares at me with a sort of smile.

"Hey, Frank," He says, "You look kind of spooked."

I just shrug in reply. Spooked, to say the least.

Mikey shrugs too as if it's an automatic reflex. I don't want to speak, it was so unusual for me. I couldn't think of any words.

"Hey, um, Frank? Do you want to hang out tomorrow? Me and Gerard don't know anybody else round here." Mikey asks awkwardly, looking at the ground.

I nod slowly, taken by shock that somebody wants to "hang out" with me. Mikey seems pleased with my response.

"Cool." He grins.

I shrug again then build up the confidence to talk. My mouth feels dry as I do.

"Where's Gerard?" I ask simply, clearing my throat.

Mikey shrugs.

"He said something about the shop. I don't know." He says, he doesn't really seem too bothered about Gerard's whereabouts.

I don't really give it another thought. It's not top of my priorities. Me and Mikey walk to home room in silence. I hope maybe we will talk more there. The silence is killing me.

There are only two other people at the home room, some people liked to go early to do homework. Me and Mikey just walked in and took our seats at the back of the class.

The two other people looked up and whispered crazily to each other. They were two girls, one with dark brown hair and glasses and the other with strawberry-blonde hair and a cute face.

"Are you that Gerard boy's brother?" the brunette pipes up, aiming her question at Mikey.

Mikey nods.

"Sweet, you look quite similar. But Gerard is quite… what's the word?" the girl pretends to be deep in thought and her red-headed friend pipes up.

"Hot?"

Mikey goes bright red.

"It's okay," the brunette laughs "We don't mean to creep you out! Why don't you sit with us, or…are you talking to… um… Fred?"

The red haired girl snorts with laughter.

"That's Frank Iero, Megan, he likes scary music and scary things. He is kind of scary. And he's at least half a foot shorter than us both. Remember, in our first year? He screamed at Phil Hawkins, and got a week of detention."

The brunette eyes me with a look of confusion.

"Did you?" she asks, I don't reply, I know her ginger friend who has too much to say for herself will explain further.

"He did. Phil kept calling him a fag and shoved him in a locker like ten times," she paused to laugh "and then in Math class Phil tried to hit Frank with a ruler and he just stood up and screamed, not even a word, just like-" the girl showed her friend Megan what she meant and Megan burst out laughing.

At that point the two girls give up and turn back into what was supposedly a very important conversation.

Mikey rolls his eyes. Then sighs.

"So." he mumbles awkwardly. "About tomorrow, do you know how to get to our house? It's on Falcon Street." I shake my head and Mikey curses under his breath.

"You know, screw it, just come back with us after school today and we'll show you the way." he tells me with a hint of a smile and I can't help but smile too. I'm going to a friend's house. An actual friend's house, I hardly know the kid, but it gave me the perfect opportunity to get on his good side.

"Cool. I'll meet you at the gates at the end of the day."

And the day goes really quickly. Before I know it I'm in my last class of the week: Maths.

I was in the highest math class, it was a mix between seniors and my year, when I walked in though I spotted someone in my seat. Mikey's older brother, who looked asleep.

I walked to the desk and sat in the seat next to him, which, believe it or not, nobody sat in.

I prodded Gerard with a pencil and his eyes shot open.

"What did I do?" he said instantly then he saw me and did a half wave thing.

"Oh, right, I sleep in Math, is that okay?" He says before putting his head on the desk again and shutting his eyes. I don't even bother asking and face the front.

Miss O'Neill had written what exercises we had to complete in the text book on the black board and was sitting marking papers. Before long the class was noisy and throwing bits of paper around. Miss O'Neill stood up and coughed.

"You are all being too noisy, but since it's Friday, I'll let you off. I'm going to my office, and be warned I will hear off any misbehaviour, that includes bullying." she announces to the class as she scoops her papers off the desk and leaves the room.

There is a small silence and the class erupts again. Gerard lifts his head.

"Oh, fuck off, noise." he groans.

I laugh a little.

"Sore head?" I ask in a quiet voice.

Gerard nods.

"You bet." He replies quickly. "Hey, Mikey says that you are coming to our house, would you go with me to my locker before you leave the school?"

I nod and Gerard nods too.

"I think we should go now." He announces, he picks up his bag and knocks all his books into it. I follow suit, confused. There's still ten minutes of class left.

We don't go straight to Gerard's locker, instead we walk through the poster-covered corridors, which are all the same dull shade of murky green in colour. And the paint is chipping. Badly. Gerard leads me to the boys bathroom where he goes to a sink and flicks water in his face and stares angrily at his reflection. I don't make a comment but I wonder if I should. Gerard mouths something to the mirror, I don't really pick it up, but it looks a lot like "I hate you."

Then Gerard throws water at the mirror and indicates for us to leave. Just as we reach his locker the bell rings.

Gerard's locker is the other side of the school from me, and he has a really disgusting one. On the front "the owner of this locker sucks cock" with several people's names on it. I trace my finger over one that says "Katie loves Joe 4 ever." I doubt Katie or Joe were forever. And if they did make it past high school they probably had a kid and weren't even together. That's the sort of people who write their names on lockers, using a 4 instead of for. I realise I'd been daydreaming when Gerard coughs. He has put all his books away and looks quite annoyed. I apologise and follow him outside to where we find Mikey standing. He smiles at us both. Gerard doesn't smile back

"Well lets get going." Mikey sighs, and I follow him and Gerard through winding paths that I would never remember. We walk round the edge of a park then come to a little alley, we walk up it then come out on the other side on a street. Mikey jumps the fence of a garden and Gerard keeps walking and uses the gate. I decide to follow Gerard. Mikey just giggles immaturely.

Inside their house it smells musky, like cigarette smoke.

"My Mom is out so we're alone," Mikey tells me as he drops his bag. I put my bag next to his and look around the hall. It's pretty nice with a couple of pictures of people lining the walls and a vase of flowers on a table in the corner.

"My Mom did a lot of work when we moved in. She has to feel at home." Mikey tells me as he sees me examining the room.

Then my attention is drawn to Gerard.

"I really need a smoke, Mikey. Where are they? What have you done with them?" he jitters.

"I have smokes," I say, louder than I usually speak.

Gerard's face breaks into a smile.

"Frank, please, I'll love you forever!" Gerard pleads, I fish about in my bag and pull out a half-empty packet of smokes. I'm not sure if you should say half-empty or half-full. People say if you look on the bright side you'd say half-full. That's the sort of little thing that makes me realise what kind of person I am. I hand Gerard a cigarette and take one myself. I normally don't smoke much, it normally just calms me.

Gerard lights his cigarette then lights mines for me and takes a grateful draw.

"Thank you so much, Frankie." he breathes.

Frankie? Oh god, Frankie. Only my Mom calls me Frankie. But I don't argue.

Mikey coughs then goes into the kitchen where he opens the window. I forgot about his asthma and embarrassingly put my cigarette out in an ash tray on the table.

"What do you say we get to know each other," Mikey calls.

"Good idea," I reply.

Mikey comes back through then leads me upstairs.

"We'll go in my room because Gerard's room is a wreck, to say the least, we only just got here and it's mental already," Mikey laughs as he leads me into his own room. A few band posters line the walls but nothing major. In the corner a bass sits, it looks dusty.

"You play bass?" I ask out of interest.

Mikey shakes his head "I just have one," he grins, it doesn't seem to make sense but I grin too.

Mikey flops down on his bed and I sit on the edge, I lie back as a force of habit and sigh, I feel at home already. That must be a good sign. Suddenly remembering home I swear and pull my phone out my jean pocket. I must still have a lot of money on it as I never use it. Ever. I quickly text my Mom:

Mom, I'm at a friend's house. I'm not making an excuse. I really am. Be back whenever.

Mikey watches me interested as I text.

"You text full sentences?" he asks. I nod. I don't understand text speak, I was much more traditional.

My phone vibrates almost instantly. Mikey laughs.

"My mom…" I laugh.

The text reads:

Ok, huni, if u r sure. Remember 2 get home safe.

Sweet, she just let it slide. Thankfully, I half expected her to say she was phoning the police.

Just then Gerard walks in and jumps on the bed.

"So much better now!" He grins "I can think clearly." he puts his fingers to his temples and looks calm. I know exactly how he feels.

Mikey just keeps a straight face, he clearly doesn't approve of smoking.

"So, if we're going to get to know each other, we might as well say five things about ourselves… even though me and Gerard already know it all, but whatever." Mikey says, he just likes to point out the obvious, I think. "I'll start. Okay. I love world of warcraft, I love arts and crafts. I like pizza a lot. I've only ever had one girlfriend, for like two days because she told me she was just trying to get to Gerard and I'm pretty shy most of the time" Mikey finishes. "Your go." he points at me.

"My middle name is Anthony… I play guitar… I love dogs… I've never had a girlfriend… I love piercings and tattoos… there's five. Your go, Gerard."

"My middle name is Arthur. I am terrified of needles. I love drawing and comic books. I have never had a girlfriend. I like writing songs." he mumbles in a low voice. "And I get called a fag. Wait, that's six. Oh well. I hate math. There, eight!"

We all laugh at Gerard's terrible attempt at a joke. But in my head I feel like I'm spinning. Gerard gets called a fag? Is he actually gay? More importantly, why do I care?

Mikey laughs.

"Wow, all the things I never knew about you, Gee, you are amazing." Mikey jokes.

Gerard pretends to be flattered.

"You seem like a nerd, though, Michael!" he laughs. The brothers fall around laughing and I find myself laughing too. Although the dizzy feeling is still there.

"Oh, man. I'm going to make coffee." Mikey giggles as he gets up from the bed.

"There's none left, you'll have to run to the shop." Gerard points out, Mikey groans but calls okay as he runs downstairs leaving me and Gerard alone.

It's silent for a moment. Then Gerard coughs.

"You get called fag too." I find myself saying, I don't know where this speaking freely lark is coming from. It scares me.

Gerard nods.

"Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?" Gerard jokes, seemingly unbothered. "I've had it for the whole of high school. I'm just waiting for it to start here."

I make a sympathetic face.

"I hate it." I whisper. "I hate it more than anything else they could say."

Gerard nods in agreement. His dark eyebrows furrow together in a frown and he meets me with those hazel eyes.

"But then I am a fag, right? I've had more feelings for guys… fuck that. I've never had feelings for a girl." he admits. I bite my lip and nod. "What about you, Frank?"

I don't know what to say. I don't know. I honestly don't.

"I've never felt…love…I guess. Or lust. Or whatever. Ever. I've wanted somebody, but I've never known who." I whisper, feeling myself go bright red.

Gerard nods.

"You're sweet and cute. And you don't hate me because I'm such a thoughtless person." he tells me "you seem to be able to find the best in somebody. Like Mikey, he's normally so quiet and straight-faced, but you've made him smile a lot. He doesn't normally make friends easily. That's why he's so keen to make a friendship with you. You are a beautiful person, trust me, somebody will love you."

I bite my lip. Cute? Beautiful? Hardly.

"Cute?" I find myself blurt out. Gerard laughs.

"Haven't you seen how short you are?" he asks, a big smile forming across his face.

I go red and instantly try to change the subject "You said you write songs." I point out.

"I do. Hey, come through to my room and I'll sing you one." he suggests, taking a hold of my hand, dragging me through the door and into what looks like the blitz. But it doesn't matter. The posters are amazing, I spot several misfits ones.

"Okay, I'll sing you this one. It's called Demolition Lovers. Hand in mine, into your icy blues…" he begins to sing and I nearly feel sick at how amazing his voice is. I shiver as he sings, lost in the words and beauty. He doesn't seem to finish the whole song. He just blushes a little.

"You are fucking amazing, Gerard. I mean it." I whisper, still in shock from how stunning his voice was.

Gerard pulls me into a quick hug then pulls straight back out of it, what feels like an electric shock jolts up my back.

"Thank-you, I can finally believe that. Mikey just says whatever he thinks will make you happiest a lot." he grins thankfully. That grin. It makes me smile. Like a quick spreading illness.

Yet I'm still thinking over the song. And the hug. Why did both make me feel so strange? I shiver again. Gerard passes me a black hoodie at that point.

"Stop shivering, dude." he laughs "it ain't that cold."

His hand brushes against mine and I feel the electric shock again. I swear a little this time.

"You felt that too?" He asks with a tone of surprise. "Weird,"

I shiver again, it's like hiccoughs, it doesn't go away.

"Yeah, I suppose, weird. Maybe we just have electricity in our veins." I suggest.

Gerard shakes his head quickly.

"I have a friend from my old school who's convinced coffee runs through our veins. He's cool. He has an afro." he tells me.

I have no idea how we got from electricity, to coffee, to afros.

We sit in Gerard's room for a little while in silence. But Gerard had actually talked to me, he was probably just more confident in familiar surroundings. I was too - I felt best when I was either in my room with my guitars or amongst the crowd at a sweaty concert. I imagine Gerard at a concert, screaming and jumping up and down with everyone else, sweaty and too hot but not caring about anything but the music, with his hair stuck to his forehead and his top half hanging off the shoulder because it got ripped… I immediately stop thinking about that and sit up straight. Gerard eyes me suspiciously, then he just smiles as if remembering something.

"You know when I got kicked out of my old school, most of the kids yelled at me and called me horrible for hurting that guy. As the head teacher expelled me she said "I admire how you stuck up for your brother. I know it must feel wrong because you were wronged, but you are the one being punished. I think this is best though, and anyway, wherever you go you'll have somebody who'll be there for you, if he's anything like you,"" Gerard says, seemingly just speaking out his memories. "I'd say you are lucky to have him wanting to be your friend, treat him well, please. But then, I wonder if I'm the lucky one. I may not show it but I really like you Frank. I have no idea why. You're just a nice guy, with a very good taste in hoodies." he smiles broadly.

"I'll treat you both well. I am not shallow or stupid. And thanks, you have pretty good taste too." I reply softly. Gerard looks really happy and pulls me into a hug. I nearly let out a gasp but hold it in, not wanting to sound daft.

Gerard kisses my cheek and I feel the electric shock again.

"Thanks, Frank. You are fucking amazing." he tells me as he lets me go.

Just as I fall back Mikey walks in the room.

"It's okay, Gee. Just show our new visitors the life-like tribute to a bombsite. Because our house is a museum." he congratulates Gerard sarcastically.

"The museum of dirty boxers!" Gerard giggles as he kicks a pair across the room at Mikey.

I look on, not sure if I should laugh or be repulsed. But I go with laugh anyway. Mikey grumbles as the dirty underpants hit him in the face then fall on the ground at his feet.

"I'm going to go wash my face then make coffee. How do you like your coffee, Frank?" he asks me.

I shrug.

"I ain't partial to anything. Whatever will do." I reply, not wanting to put Mikey out of his way. Mikey nods then disappears again.

Gerard and me are alone again. In silence. I move over a little from my space on the bed and Gerard moves too. I wonder if he meant to. To be sure, I move again, then nearly yell out as I realise Gerard had moved in such a way that I had just leaned right into him. I figured he was moving because of me.

Then Gerard takes my hand in his. He doesn't say anything. He just holds my hand.

I don't say anything either, but I want to shout out. I wanted to pull Gerard closer into me and just -

Then something hit me. I didn't _like_ Gerard, did I? No, I couldn't. Gerard was a guy and I was definitely straight. But then, what was so wrong with falling for a boy? I was so against homophobia but found myself recoiling at the prospect of being homosexual. But then, would it be such a bad thing? Love was love.

I looked up to find Gerard staring at me.

"You really are cute." he says when he realises that I caught him staring at me.

Gerard looks strange as he looks at me, not a bad strange - just peculiar. His dark hair is very messy and sticking up everywhere, an astray of black, it falls around his gentle but so pale face. But it's the eyes that get me, those brown eyes that reflect so much but say so little as to who this boy really is. Who really is he? Why does he seem so mysterious?

"Thanks." I grin, then before I know it, Gerard's hand has moved and he is stroking my hair, pushing my long fringe out of my eyes.

"Have you ever kissed anyone, Frank?" Gerard asks softly, and just as I'm about to answer, Mikey comes in, holding three cups of coffee, one balanced in a precautious position on his arm.

"Quick, take it!" he shouts, the cup was obviously burning him. Gerard reaches out swiftly and grabs the cup, Mikey lets out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks. Here you go, Frank." Mikey passes me a mug and I thank him, graciously taking a long sip of hot coffee. It tastes sweet and slightly milky, not how I would of made it, but it's coffee nonetheless.

We all sit in silence drinking coffee and then when we're finished, we just sit there, nobody speaks until Mikey pipes up.

"Mom's back, by the way."

Gerard grunts in reply.

"She wants to meet Frank." he continues.

I feel embarrassed for some reason."Well, are you coming downstairs?" Mikey asks, collecting our empty mugs. Gerard stands up briskly and summons me, I follow him downstairs and into the unfamiliar living room.

A blonde haired woman is sitting on the sofa flicking through a book casually, when she spots me she looks up and smiles.

"Mom, this is Frank." Gerard introduces me.

"Hello, Frank, dear. I hope you don't mind getting called dear, but you just look so small and cuddly next to Gerard." I see Gerard smirk next to me "I'm Donna." Gerard and Mikey's Mom says happily, smiling widely. She holds out a hand to shake, I shake her hand and smile.

"Uh, yeah, thanks Mrs Way." I smile back awkwardly.

She shakes her head.

"No, no, call me Donna." she laughs. "Hey, why don't you stay the night and you boys can watch a movie, you can phone your Mom or Dad using our phone."

Gerard does a bizarre little jazz hands dance.

"Slumber party! Yeah!" he says in a very put on girlish voice, I giggle at him.

"Sure, thanks." I thank Donna, she points out the phone to me.

I go over to the phone and dial my number in, the phone is nearly exactly the same to the one I have at home, except black. The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?"

"Mom."

"Frankie! Where are you?"

"Mikey's house."

"Who's Mikey?"

"A friend."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Okay, when are you coming home?"

"Tomorrow? If that's okay?"

"Have you been invited?"

"Mikey's Mom suggested it."

"Well that's nice, okay, I suppose, as long as you text me later."

"Why?"

"So I know you're safe."

"Mom, I'm seventeen."

"You're still my little boy. What- oh! The door just rang. I have to go, Love you Frankie."

"You too, Mom. Bye."

My Mom hangs up and a blank, dull sound rings through the phone. I place it back on the cradle and turn around to see the Ways all staring at me. I feel myself blush.

Mikey and Gerard are grinning.

"I'm seventeen, Mummy!" mimics Gerard in a strange English accent. Mikey and Gerard fall about laughing.

I go even further red and walk over to them, unsure if a little punch on the arm would do him any harm. I decide against this in the presence of their Mom, only to be shocked by the fact that she instead punches Gerard a little in the arm.

"Shut up, silly." she says sternly, but she's smiling too.

I find myself ease up a bit.

"My Mom just doesn't trust me, that's all. She thinks I'm going to do something crazy like jump off a bridge or something." I shake it off, not wanting to start anything stupid.

"Frankie Wanky, oh shit!" Gerard bursts out laughing and I can't help but do it too.

"That came out so wrong, oh my God, dude, I totally take that back." He laughs, Mikey and Donna are laughing too. I think I'm going to like my stay, this family just seem so laid back; Gerard especially in comparison to the boy he was at school. He was a whole new person.

Later that night Mikey, Gerard and I were all crowded round Mikey's TV watching a funny movie about a man who had to climb a mountain for status or something. I wasn't paying attention to the storyline, all I knew is that the film had a lot of swearing and a kid with a Green Day shirt. We were all eating snacks that Donna had given us, which mainly consisted of chips and dips. But I wasn't complaining. By the end of the movie Mikey had fallen asleep and was lying back against the bottom of his bed, glasses half hanging off and mouth hanging open. Me and Gerard giggled silently at him as he let out a long snore.

Gerard stood up and beckoned for me to come through to his room, leaving Mikey in peace.

"You're going to need to borrow some pyjamas." Gerard explains, leading me into his room again, he goes straight to his wardrobe which he rakes about in until he emerges with a pair of jogging bottoms and a tatty looking Nirvana shirt.

"Will this do?" He asks, holding the clothes out like a girl on a shopping channel, advertising some pretty new dress to buy.

I nod and he chucks the clothes at me.

"You can get dressed in here, I won't look, I promise." he winks, covering his eyes with his hands. For some reason I don't entirely trust him, but I don't really care.

I pull off my jeans and shirt, standing almost completely naked except from my boxers. I wasn't sure if I was doing it because I _wanted _Gerard to look and I was pretty sure I could see a little peek of brown eye through the gap between his middle and ring finger. I smirked and slowly pulled the pants on, then pulled the shirt on quickly, suddenly feeling the cold.

"Clear!" I call just as Gerard pulls his hands away, he smiles then walks towards me.

"Why don't we start from where we finished earlier?" he suggests, the smile still fixed across his lips. "Have you ever been kissed?"

I shake my head, feeling quite dizzy.

"Have you?" I return the question, not wanting to start an awkward silence.

"Drunkenly. Have you ever had a crush?" came his automatic reply.

"Yes." I say simply.

"Who on?" I knew that was coming. I just shrug.

"Just people that have come and gone, you know?" I reply passively.

"I get crushes a lot, mainly on people I just think are cute." Gerard nods, seemingly agreeing with what I said.

"Anybody I know?" I ask, realising that was a stupid thing to say as me and Gerard didn't know any of the same people.

But Gerard nodded slyly.

"You know them very well." he grins.

I feel myself pull a funny face in wonder to what Gerard had just said, but I let it slide.

"Have you ever had a crush on a guy?" comes the next question, I bite my lip and nod slowly. I suppose it was true. Then I nearly jumped. I realised the person I had had a crush on that was a guy was in fact, the guy sitting across from me. But it wasn't a proper crush. I just thought he was cute. I suppose I'd go with that if anybody asked me about it, which I doubt they ever will.

Then Gerard completely changed the subject in a very strange, obsessive way.

"Do you want to play with my guitar?" he asks, jumping off his bed and over to a wooden wardrobe which he opened and pulled out a very worn looking fender strat guitar in black, but I liked it. He passed it to me and smiled expectantly.

I begun strumming random chords and playing random riffs, not knowing exactly what I was playing, but Gerard seemed to like whatever it was. True, it didn't sound very loud without an amp but it would do.

"I like that. Play that again." Gerard requests as I run my fingers along the strings, I repeat what I just played and Gerard nods approvingly. "Keep that up, I have something."

Then he begins to sing softly.

"Well let's go back to the middle of the day that starts it all, I can't begin to let you know just what I'm feeling, and as the red ones help me fly and the blue ones help me fall well I think I'll blow my brains against the ceiling…"

I stare at him, shocked.

"What's that about?" I ask, puzzled.

"There's times when I've felt really dark, and I write songs to get it out," he shrugs in reply.

"I do that," I whisper. I remember it was just two days ago that I thought about how much in common I had with this boy I hardly knew, and now for some reason I felt like I could just be me around him. Maybe he just had that effect on some people, his handsome half smile and his brown eyes that hid so much.

Just then I let out a long yawn and Gerard smiles, taking the guitar from me and in a small way, a piece of comfort.

"You're tired, Frankie." He says in the same flat tone he had used with me when he first met me.

He carefully placed the black guitar back in the wardrobe and came back over where the covers lay messy at the foot of his bed. He reached down and pulled them up, wrapping them around us like a tent, the same way you would do when you were little. But I felt truly safe for the first time in a long time, I yawned and lay back at nearly the exact time as Gerard.

"Well isn't this cosy." Gerard giggles, wiggling around, his knees rubbing against mine. I could help but let out a little high pitched giggle which only made Gerard laugh more.

"You have an adorable laugh." he giggles, a real smile stretched across his face. I yawn again and smile.

"I hate my laugh." I say, trying not to giggle too.

"You shouldn't." Gerard giggles, I feel so stupid but so light.

"I'm sleepy." I yawn, trying to change the subject from my laugh.

"Then sleep, Frankie."


End file.
